To my darling delicious sons,
This topic might make you feel uneasy, but that's a good thing. Open your eyes, your heart, your mind to look beyond physical flaws, to see the beauty they represent.
My body has changed since before you were born, before I carried you in my womb. Before then, I wore mid-riff tops instead of tugging at my shirt to make it longer than my hips. Before then, I clenched my abdomen because I wanted to, not because I needed to. Before then, I wore a belly button ring to display instead of spandex to hide. As your bodies developed and grew inside me, so did mine. Irreversible changes.
At first it was exciting, seeing how far my skin would stretch each week. Then, as your body grew inside mine, the ache of rapid change began to hurt -- and no matter how much vitamin E cream I would rub every hour, the stretch marks still appeared. My spine and hips were the next to crumble under the pressure, but I kept telling myself, "It's all worth it. You can do this, you are a woman, it's what you do!" The next irreversible change was thrown at me by the doctor. My head and hands shook together as she looked me in the eyes and told me with compassion: "There is no way you will birth naturally."
At the time I didn't fully realise what any of these changes would mean for me -- until my body began to try and snap back into it's original shape and not everything found the place it started from. I knew I would never wear a bikini again, never ever. My stomach was ruined for life -- a massive scar, ugly wrinkles, stretch creases... my cute little belly button would never be the same again.
I feel like I have to justify myself, that I do cringe at my body even though I'm not overweight, but everyone hates something about their body. The truth is, I hate many things about my body, but these wounds are not one of them. I have many emotional scars, but these ones are no deeper than my eyes can see.
So many people are embarrassed of their post-baby body, some even ashamed of a c-section scar -- but look at what came from it. I wouldn't trade them in for a perfect body. I adore it. Yes, you heard right -- I adore my body. I wouldn't have it any other way. My scars are now a mark of the doorway to your lives -- the place where you inhaled your very first breath.
They are not war wounds or a battle scars. They don't represent my body's failures. They aren't something I am ashamed of or pretend aren't there. They are a celebration -- just like your life. A constant reminder of what I do have ... love ... you. They are my love wounds and I wear them with pride and gratitude.
All my love, Mum.